Pass It On
by kazooband
Summary: Rumors about Jack and Sam are flying around the base, and they get to take some rather...unusual measures to get rid of them. COMPLETE! WITH EPILOGUE!
1. So it Begins

Disclaimer: The other night I had a dream that I own Stargate and everything, then I woke up and realized that it's a very good thing I don't, because the actual powers that be do a much better job than I ever could. I write only for fun and earn no money for this.

Season: Mid to late season 5, between 2001 and Meridian.

Pairing: Sam and Jack

Spoilers: Brief references to Ascension, Between Two Fires, and 2001. Harder core spoilers about The First Commandment, Upgrades, Divide and Conquer, Window of Opportunity... the usual suspects. If there ends up being more I'll warn you at the beginning of the chapter in question.

Rating: PG-13 for language and some romance

Author's note: Thanks for taking the time to read my fic. This is the first one I have actually posted since I was a freshman (I'm a senior now). I have several stories going on in my head right now, but I'm starting with this one since it seems to be moving fastest. It's just a little something I write while I'm supposed to be paying attention in my government class (and I wonder why I've got a B in there...). Hopefully I'll be able to add chapters relatively quickly (my hope is twice a week) most of the story is already written, just not typed. If there is ever a long delay between updates, I've probably got a project or an essay due. Anyway, any reviews you feel like giving are greatly appreciated. Please enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: So it Begins**

Sergeant Walter Harriman took a sip of his coffee and watched the readout on his computer screen. He had been ordered to take advantage of a period of time without any anticipated gate travel to run a full diagnostic on the gate system, since once the program was started, any interruption would force him to start over. Usually, Major Carter liked to be on hand for these, but such a check was dangerously overdue, and SG-1 was off world, attempting to broker a trade agreement.

Naturally, the gate chose that moment to light up and open with a whoosh, causing the technician to swear both over the lost hours of work and the spilled coffee caused by the sudden disturbance. He hit a few keys on the keyboard then reached out to close the iris, but the computer picked up SG-1's identification code first.

The Sergeant was only slightly tempted to close the iris anyway; he wasn't quite that annoyed with them. It was hard to be, Earth as they knew it would no longer exist if it weren't for them.

"Who is it?" General Hammond asked from behind Harriman.

He jumped slightly; he hadn't noticed the General's approach. After taking a moment to regain his composure, he replied, "SG-1, sir."

"They're not due back for another two days," Hammond wondered aloud. "Do you think they've secured the naquadah that quickly?"

Harriman shrugged, although SG-1's track record in such situations left him a bit more pessimistic.

* * *

By this time the team in question had appeared on the ramp, more than a little annoyed themselves.

The planet's inhabitants, a relatively advanced group descended from the Mayans of South America, were friendly enough, and had long since overthrown their Goa'uld overlord. To make matters even better, despite the fact that their existing naquadah mine was nearly dry, the UAV happened upon another vein relatively close to the Stargate that the Goa'uld must have missed or not gotten the chance to exploit.

As it was, the Mayans were more than happy to consider a trade: they had no adequate means of refining the raw ore themselves and therefore no feasible use for it. SG-1 was sent to suggest that the Mayans could mine the mineral, the Tauri could refine it, and they could split the naquadah equally.

O'Neill knew the stakes were high and his diplomacy skills were lacking, so he did the polite thing and allowed Daniel and Carter to handle most of the negotiations. Everything went according to plan, in fact it was quite boring in O'Neill's opinion, and with no ironically timed Goa'uld attacks, natural disasters, or other such ways for SG-1 to prove their valor, the Mayans were still skeptical of the Tauri's sincerity by the time the talks ended. Thus, they had requested that the visitors return to their planet to ensure their own privacy while they came to a decision.

Always aware of when to stop, Daniel requested that they be allowed to stay, on the grounds of learning more about their culture.

Even after the Mayans insisted they leave under threat of unspecified but no doubt unpleasant consequences Daniel didn't give it up, and an armed standoff nearly ensued.

It was Carter who managed to diffuse the situation by agreeing to leave immediately and giving their leader her radio and the coordinates of Earth, so that when they were ready they could contact the SGC on their own terms.

It was because of this that O'Neill wished to speak to Carter that day. Her actions would no doubt be seen as a blatant breach to security.

As he reached the bottom of the ramp, O'Neill handed off his P-90, M-15, and zat, then caught up with his second in command, who was standing a few steps away. She was struggling to unclip her primary weapon from her vest because a piece of fabric had gotten caught in the hook.

O'Neill came up behind Carter and touched her arm to get her attention. At that very moment the clip on her gun slid free unexpectedly and the P-90 dropped out of her grasp.

Jack stooped quickly and caught it, then gave it to the waiting aid and said, "Nice work back there, Carter."

"I'll be lucky if I'm not court martialed," Carter said with a sigh as she relinquished the rest of her weapons.

"Oh, you know the General," O'Neill replied with a shrug, "he'll understand when I tell him what happened."

"Got him wrapped around your little finger do you?" Carter asked with a smirk.

"You know it," Jack said. "Anyway, I'll stick with you whatever happens."

"Thank you, sir," Sam replied, flashing one of her million dollar smiles. "See you later."

* * *

From his perch above them, Sergeant Harriman saw the whole conversation. Unfortunately, people in the gateroom usually had to speak very loudly for those in the control room to hear them, so he couldn't make out everything that was said. However, Colonel O'Neill was neither especially quiet nor subtle, so the technician felt he'd gotten the general idea. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't sure when he'd last seen Major Carter looking so... smitten.

Harriman might have been a stickler for rules, and a little mad at the team, but he didn't want to get the subject of his current intrigue in trouble, so he waited until General Hammond was out of earshot before he turned the nearest technician and asked excitedly, "Did you see that?"

"See what?" she asked dully, paying more attention to her computer than her enthusiastic coworker.

"I think they're at it again," he replied.

"Who?" the second technician asked, becoming a little annoyed with the circumnavigous explanation.

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter," Harriman said, a little exasperated himself.

"Oh, them," she said, finally turning away from her computer. "I didn't realize they ever stopped."

Harriman looked momentarily aghast at his own lack of knowledge, but managed to flip the statement around by saying, "Well, of course, but I mean actually doing something about it."

"Really?" the woman asked, now truly intrigued. "What did you see?"

Sergeant Harriman explained the conversation he had watched unfold and his opinion of its implications, exaggerating or demeaning small details for effect.

"I've got to admit I didn't see that coming," the second technician said when he finished, "did you?"

"No, none of it," Harriman replied. "I wonder if something happened while they were off world."

"There's a good way to find that out," the technician said, eyeing him conspiratorially.


	2. The Debriefing

Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind reviews, I honestly didn't expect such a great response. You guys are wonderful and inspire me to write faster. Also, to answer fallingfromelysuim's question about exactly what Sam was worried about being court martailed over, I saw it two ways, either she was exaggerating, or, if the natives of the planet weren't as friendly as they seemed, they could possibly use the radio to figure out what kind of frequency etc they use and figure out an iris code through trial and error, which makes less and less sense the more I think about it. All right, I'm going to quit poking holes in my own story and get on with it.

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Debriefing**

SG-1 had half an hour to report to the infirmary then shower and change before their debriefing.

By the time the team and General Hammond were assembled, rumors of Jack and Sam's rekindled relationship had spread to half the base. They hadn't gotten the chance to change much in content, although most retellings seemed to hold an added embellishment about Colonel O'Neill accidentally/on purpose brushing up Major Carter's side as he stood up from catching her P-90.

All those stationed in the area or able to fabricate a legitimate reason for being there positioned themselves within earshot of the briefing room. The surveillance room was even more crowded, they had the volume for the briefing room turned up, and held the air of a group of people watching their favorite soap.

* * *

Most observers were spectacularly disappointed. According to SG-1, the mission practically went off without a hitch, aside from the very end when they were forced to leave earlier than anticipated. The only real noteworthy element was that Colonel O'Neill seemed more enthusiastic than usual about defending his teammates' actions, especially Carter's. The only consolation was the possibility that they had purposely censured some of the more juicy details in the name of avoiding trouble with the fraternization regulations.

Those who could only listen had all but given up and gone back to work, cursing the lost time and dashed expectations. However, a few minutes later some of them caught up with those in the surveillance room, all of them giddy with excitement.

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"I can't believe you missed it!"

"What was there to miss?"

"You should have seen it. After the briefing was adjourned Colonel O'Neill pulled out Major Carter's chair as she got up and then, this is the best part, he put his hand on her back just as they were leaving."

"All in front of General Hammond?"

"Nah, he was already in his office by then."

"I can't believe I missed it! Although, you don't think we're blowing this a little out of proportion, do you?"

"...No..."

Naturally, the SF stationed in the room at the time was tracked down and forced to give the blow by blow at least ten times. Through it all he maintained that O'Neill had actually been leaning on the back of Carter's chair when she got up, which had actually hindered the Major unlike of the chivalrous stunt they had heard. Although O'Neill and Carter did leave at the same time, the SF saw nothing even remotely similar to O'Neill putting his hand on her back, and suggested that the nature of a gesture made to Daniel at the time combined with the angle of the security camera might have created such an illusion.

The SF in question was quickly labeled as an unromantic non-believer. After all, those in the surveillance room had proof.

* * *

Thus, the rumors spread around the base faster than the cold bug in and elementary school, and mutated about as quickly.

Before long it was not uncommon to hear completely contradictory pieces of information from the same trusted source, and it was difficult to surmise from the rumors alone whether the two officers hated each other or were engaged to be married.

One thing was for certain as far as most people were concerned, either they were finally together and showing it, or they were finally together and not showing it, and they weren't going to rest until they figured out which one it was.

* * *

A/N- Sorry this chapter is kind of short, I promise the next one is pretty long, and I'll try and get it posted faster than this one. Thanks for your patience.


	3. On the Grill

**Chapter 3: On the Grill**

Eventually, people began to realize just how far from the truth their information could be, and decided that they only way to verify any of it would be to grill Jack and Sam's friends. They were scientists, after all.

It was with this line of thinking that Sergeant Siler made his way slowly to the infirmary, trying not to step on his throbbing right foot. One of these days he was going to tie his wrench to his arm, then maybe he'd be able to go a day without injuring himself.

He had been roped into helping the rumor mill's cause as he hobbled to the elevator. Siler was as curious about Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter as the next man, but he felt that whatever the situation was, they deserved privacy.

However, he knew from the enthusiasm of his recruiter that if he left the infirmary without anything juicy to report a bruised foot would be the least of his worries.

On the other hand, Siler doubted his ability to get any information without letting on his true intentions. Doctor Fraiser was as sharp as those needles she like to poke people with and fiercely protective of her friends.

Trying futilely to plan his attack, Siler took one final steadying breath and hopped the remaining distance into the infirmary.

"Sergeant Siler," Doctor Fraiser said as he came in and dumped himself on the nearest bed. "I was wondering whether you'd be in today. What's your complaint?"

"Oh, you know me..." Siler trailed off lamely.

"Dropped your wrench on your foot, did you?" Fraiser asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Siler said sulkily.

"Let's have a look," Fraiser said, carefully pulling off his boot and examining the bruised foot within. "You really should try to be more careful, one of these days you're really going to hurt yourself. You've already exceeded the recommended maximum number of X-rays in a year, and as much as I hate to sound like Colonel O'Neill, the paperwork is a bit of a hassle."

"Speaking of Colonel O'Neill, how's Major Carter been lately?" Siler asked, trying to be tactful but mostly failing.

Fraiser eyed him suspiciously, trying to figure out why he had drawn that particular connection, then said, "Same as always, as far as I know. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know," Siler started, giving himself time to think of an excuse. "Major Carter and I usually work together a lot when she's not off-world, but SG-1's been so busy lately...you know how it is," he finished, inwardly cursing himself for the repetitive statement. He'd known getting information out of Doctor Fraiser would be difficult, but this was ridiculous.

"I understand what you mean about them being busy," Fraiser said emphatically. "I've been bugging General Hammond to give them some leave for months, but it seems the universe just can't survive without them. As it is, they're all overworked, but Sam still has to be ordered to go home every night. Even if they do get leave, Sam and Daniel tend to stay here and work anyway."

"You or General Hammond could always order them off base," Siler suggested. "They say that Colonel O'Neill has a fishing cabin in Minnesota, it might do them all good to take a trip up there." He knew he was rambling now, but he couldn't stop. "I hear he once asked Major Carter to go fishing with him. Maybe if she's not allowed to stay here she'll go."

Doctor Fraiser's eyes narrowed with this last statement. Clearly she'd caught on.

Oops.

On purpose or not, she poked his foot in its most tender spot, hard.

Oh, yeah, now he'd done it.

"I don't know where you got this idea, but they are Air Force officers. What's more, Colonel O'Neill is Major Carter's commanding officer. Doing such a thing would be inappropriate and against regulations and I think you know that, Sergeant," Fraiser ranted passionately.

Siler knew that arguing with the Doctor would be futile even if he had a sound debate. As it was, he gave up completely and gazed dejectedly at his off-color foot instead.

"You're restricted to light duty for at least the rest of the day," Fraiser said coldly as she passed him a bag of ice. "I think your foot's only bruised, but if it's still hard to walk on after a few hours come back and I'll do an X-ray."

Siler re-laced his shoe as fast as his shaking fingers would allow and left, scarcely daring to look at the enraged Doctor.

* * *

Colonel O'Neill stepped onto an elevator alongside Doctor Melanie Waterman, and archaeologist from of the SG teams.

"Colonel," she said in greeting.

"Doctor," he replied.

"Where you headed?" Waterman asked.

"Um, Carter's lab," the Colonel replied. "I got tired of writing reports all day, so I figured I'd go bother her awhile."

Jack always felt uncomfortable around this particular scientist, mostly because she always acted so formal around him even though she was a civilian, and he could never tell if she always acted that way, or if she was just afraid of him.

Melanie, however, was anything but scared. In fact it was all she could do not to laugh out loud as she selected the proper floor for him. Forget trying to weasel anything out of Doctor Jackson, she just got enough information to fuel the rumor mill for at least the next couple of days, and straight from the source too.

Not that she expected questioning Doctor Jackson to be difficult, get the man distracted enough with some artifact and he'd answer anything before even considering that the information might be top secret.

Doctor Waterman departed from the elevator, wishing the Colonel a good day, then knocked on the doorframe to Daniel's cluttered office and entered.

Daniel looked up briefly to see who it was then refocused on his work, mumbling, "Hi, Melanie, what can I do for you?"

"Hi," Doctor Waterman replied. "Did you have a good mission?"

"Great," Daniel said, finally looking at her properly.

"Anything interesting happen?" she prompted.

"Tons," Daniel said. "The indigenous people have a fascinating culture. It seems to be Mayan in nature, and almost perfectly preserved despite their technology. I managed to get a few rubbings of some of the relics before we were held up at gunpoint and forced to leave. Here, take a look."

Melanie smirked inwardly at Daniel's enthusiasm. Only in his books would rubbings rank higher than being held at gunpoint on the interesting scale. However, in this context, she wasn't particularly concerned with either one. What she really wanted to know was if anything "interesting" had occurred, specifically between the two resident Air Force officers on SG-1. Daniel, however, didn't seem aware of that definition of the word.

Opting for a different approach, Doctor Waterman said, "Hey, just out of curiosity, how does SG-1 dole out sleeping arrangements when you're on extended missions?"

"Why do you ask?" Doctor Jackson replied, once again paying more attention to his artifacts.

"My commanding officer's been pushing us to start packing only two larger tents between us instead of four smaller ones. He says it will save space for other gear," Melanie explained, hoping Daniel wouldn't actually ask the man to verify the information. "Since I'm the only woman on the team, and I was just wondering what Major Carter does in similar situations."

"We bring two tents, but usually sleep outside anyway, weather permitting," Daniel replied.

"And if it's raining?" Melanie asked.

"Then Sam usually shares a tent with Teal'c," Daniel said.

"Teal'c? Why's that?" Melanie pressed.

"It's mostly a respect thing, Teal'c doesn't really need to sleep anyway, so she gets more space, and he's the only one she can trust to be completely platonic about it," Daniel explained.

"And she can't trust you or Colonel O'Neill?" Melanie asked.

"Well, it's just that she and I are like siblings, but you mostly don't go sharing a small tent with your brother when you're both in your 30s. Jack is another problem entirely..." he trailed off, vaguely aware that he had said too much.

However, now that Melanie had heard that she wasn't about to let it drop without a fight.

"What kind of problem?"

Daniel had caught on to her by now, though, and looking at her intently, he said, "What exactly are you trying to ask me?"

Melanie knew that from this moment she would either have to go all in or fold. She chose to risk it. "I know that at this very moment Colonel O'Neill is in Major Carter's lab, distracting her. I want one good reason why I shouldn't play 'Love Shack' over the intercom."

Daniel thought for a moment, then said, "Lucky you, you're going to get three reasons. First of all, tampering with the computer here is a federal offense, and you could get your security clearance revoked, or be sent to jail. Secondly, that is one of the most annoying songs I have ever heard, and no one will be able to work while it's playing. And most importantly, the Air Force has rules against commanding officers fraternizing with their subordinates, and whether they are guilty of such a thing or not, they could be called in for questioning or court martialled if there is an indication that they are breaking those rules. A stunt like that could completely undermine SG-1."

"Alright," Melanie said, trying not to look too disappointed at loosing the debate so spectacularly. She said goodbye to Daniel and left, seething at her own lack of tact.

* * *

A/N: Lucky this wasn't much of a cliffhanger, because I'm probably not going to be able to post another chapter for the next week. I've got a paper due for my English class, and on top of taking up a lot of time formal writing tends to kill my muse. I'll update as soon as I can and then I promise it will start to get interesting. Thanks for your patience.


	4. What, Again?

Author's Note: Oy, what a week. Three quizzes, three tests, and a ten-page paper: I swear my teachers enjoy torturing us. Although, that paper was actually due Monday, but I got it turned in Friday, mostly because I wanted to make sure I had time to add a chapter or two to this over the weekend. So, thanks everybody, you inspire me not to procrastinate. Thanks for all the reviews and suggestions. Don't worry, I'll give you more rumors soon, and it will get shippy, very soon. And to the person who mentioned the betting pool, thanks bunches because I totally didn't think of it. I will definitely try to work that in somewhere.

* * *

**Chapter 4: What, Again?**

Daniel shook his head in disbelief and turned his concentration back to his work. What was she thinking, suggesting that there could be something going on between Jack and Sam. It was absurd, well, mostly. But where do people get this stuff anyway?

It took a moment for his subconscious to determine the obvious and the point it out to the rest of him, but it got there eventually.

"I should go tell them," he said to the artifacts around him as he stood up suddenly and left his office.

Janet happened to occupy the elevator when it reached Daniel's floor and he stepped on alongside her.

"They're at it again," Doctor Fraiser said without preamble.

"Who?" Daniel asked, worried for a moment that she had been referring to Jack and Sam.

"Whatever group's at the head of the rumor mill around here," Fraiser replied.

"Oh, them, yeah," Daniel sighed with relief.

"Siler came into the infirmary with a bruised foot and used it as an excuse to try and verify whatever information they thought they had," Fraiser ranted.

"I had a similar experience with Doctor Waterman, except without the foot part," Daniel added.

"These are supposed to be the smartest people in the country," Janet said as they stepped off the elevator. "You'd think they'd notice by now that there's nothing going on between Jack and Sam. And even if they did have feelings for each other, Sam at least would never pursue it because her career means too much to her to set herself up for a court martial like that."

"And Jack wouldn't act on it because he doesn't want Sam to jeopardize her career for him, and he likes his job too much to retire," Daniel finished.

"I guess it's a testament to the amount of time we spend in a hole in the ground that the most interesting story is a romance that doesn't even exist. Hey Teal'c," she added as the Jaffa caught up to them, dwarfing her.

"I just had a most unsettling experience," Teal'c said.

"Join the club," Daniel sighed. "What's your story?"

"I was going to partake in my midday meal," Teal'c explained. "As I entered the commissary all conversation ceased, and all present stared at me in the most peculiar fashion. At first I could not determine why."

"I suppose you figured it out or else you wouldn't be down here," Daniel said.

"Indeed," Teal'c replied.

They rounded the final corner to Sam's lab. From within Jack could be heard saying, "Aren't you hungry? Let's go get some food."

Daniel barged in before Sam had a chance to turn him down on her own and said, "You might not want to do that right now."

"For crying out loud!" Jack exclaimed. "Do we have to go save the world again? Can't it wait until after lunch?"

"Actually, the world's just fine right now," Daniel said with a smirk, "it's the lunch part that's the problem."

"Burned the french fries again did they?" Jack asked.

"What's the problem?" Sam asked, condensing the Colonel's roundabout twenty questions method.

"Apparently, there's another rumor spreading around about the two of you," Daniel started.

"Again?" Jack demanded. "Aren't they sick of us by now?"

"Apparently not," Teal'c replied stoically.

"What do they think they have on us this time?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Janet admitted. "But they seem to think something happened during your last mission, so I guess their suspicions are based on your recent behavior."

"But we haven't even done anything out of the ordinary," Sam said.

"Guess we'd better go tell the General about the lack of anything going on before he gets suspicious," Jack sighed.

"Want us to go with you?" Janet asked.

"Might be a good idea," Jack replied. "Save you the trouble of dealing with any heart attacks caused by Carter and I leaving an elevator together."

* * *

Daniel, Teal'c, and Janet waited in the briefing room while Jack and Sam prepared to face whatever music was coming to them. However, when the General invited them in he seemed downright excited.

"Colonel, Major, just the people I was hoping to see," Hammond said, earning confused looks from the both of them. "We were just contacted by the inhabitants of P3X-857. They've agreed to our terms for trade of the naquadah. Excellent work."

"Thank you, sir," O'Neill said slowly, trying to find a good way to break the real reason they were there to the obviously unaware General.

Sam beat him to it. "Sir, you might not know this, but apparently there's another rumor circulating about us," she said carefully.

The smile on Hammond's face slipped off. "Are these rumors justified? The truth now."

"The details are a little sketchy," Carter explained. "They seem to think that something happened on our last mission that changed the terms of our relationship."

"Which it didn't," O'Neill interjected.

"We assume the theory is based on something abnormal someone saw or thought they saw us do after we got back," Carter continued.

"Which we didn't," Jack finished.

Hammond sat down and attempted to thwart an impending headache by pinching the bridge of his nose. "And you're sure their opinions are unfounded?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, sir," O'Neill replied. "We've got Daniel, Teal'c and Fraiser out there willing to prove it if you like."

"That won't be necessary," Hammond replied. "This is becoming quite a nuisance, though."

"Yes, sir," Jack agreed.

"Ignoring them has always worked in the past," Hammond said. "Eventually those involved would loose interest and the rumors would stop."

"Obviously that's not working out to be a very good long term solution," O'Neill said.

"No," Hammond sighed.

"Did you have something in mind, sir?" Carter asked.

"Yes," Hammond said reluctantly. "But it goes against everything I stand for as a General in the Air Force. I'll only suggest it if you're both willing to hear me out."

"I'm all for getting this to stop," Jack said.

"Me too, sir," Carter added.

"Very well," Hammond replied. "I'm suggesting you give them what they want."

Neither Jack nor Sam knew what to make of this. It was a good thing Doctor Fraiser was just outside, because something was obviously wrong with the General.

"Are you sure, sir?" Jack asked.

"Very," Hammond replied, despite the supposed seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help but smirk inwardly at the two airman's obvious confusion.

"You want us to pretend we're dating for the sake of ending these rumors," Jack said. That didn't sound so bad.

"Exactly," Hammond replied.

"Sorry, sir," Carter stammered, "but I think I'm missing the part where this helps."

"It is my hope that if they think there actually is something going on between the two of you they'll run out of new material to talk about, or it'll invoke some guilt on their part and they'll stop out of respect for your privacy," Hammond explained.

"And if they don't," Carter asked skeptically.

"Then you can stop and we go back to plan A," Hammond replied.

"What about the inter-office dating policy?" Jack asked.

"Consider it suspended in your case," Hammond replied. "Of course, this isn't an order, and you only need take this as far as you are comfortable."

"I'm alright with this," Carter said.

"Me too," Jack replied, hoping he didn't sound too eager, or surprised that Carter seemed so keen on the idea.

"Very well," Hammond said as Jack offered Sam his arm, which she took obligingly. "Keep in mind that as soon as this is over things will be going back to the way they were before."

"Yes, sir," they said as they turned to leave.

Daniel, Teal'c, and Janet looked up as Jack and Sam entered the briefing room, still arm in arm.

"What are you doing?" Daniel asked, looking at them quizzically.

"We're giving these gossipers what they want," Jack replied simply as he and Sam made their way across the room.

Daniel looked completely dumbfounded at the statement, Janet flat out confused, and Teal'c performed one of his best combination head-tilt eyebrow raises to date.

"I'm gonna shoot whoever started this," Jack muttered.

"I'll help," Sam replied.


	5. Psst!

Author's note: Before I even start, I'd like to apologize for this chapter, but I've got a good excuse. I'm going insane! I'm not kidding either, it's been raining for the past week, so it's been dark and dingy, and half the hallways at my school are flooded (they're outside). I usually like weather like this, but its getting a little out of hand, thus, I'm a little stir crazy and hyper, and it might come through in this chapter. So pretty much, this could make absolutely no sense, or it could be really funny, and I'm too tired to tell at the moment.

**Chapter 5- Psst!**

Doctor Peterson, a gate technician, was starting thoughtfully down a hallway when Colonel Cunningham came up behind her. He originally intended to remind her to keep the hallways near the gateroom clear then move on, but something about the intensity of her gaze stopped him. He looked at her, then down the hall to where she was staring, then back at her.

"What are you staring at?"

"What?" Peterson asked, she had been almost entirely lost in thought, it was a moment before she processed the question. "Oh! Are you sure we're right about Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter?"

"The photographic evidence and eyewitness accounts are enough for me," Cunningham replied, "why?"

"Because I just saw them in the hallway and they didn't look very...together," Peterson explained.

"How do you know you didn't just catch them at an off moment, maybe the General was nearby," Cunningham pointed out.

"I guess I don't," Peterson said with a shrug.

"Where do you think they were going?" Cunningham asked.

"I don't know," Peterson replied, "Briefing room, Hammond's office, maybe."

"I'm gonna go check it out, in the meantime, you can't completely dismiss the whole concept because of one instance," Cunningham reminded her. "For all you know just before then they could have been making out in a closet."

Another airman happened to walk by the pair just as the final statement was spoken. It was all she could do to keep from skipping with happiness as she raced off to tell someone else.

"They made out in a closet!"

"No..." her quarry replied skeptically.

"Yes!" she said excitedly.

"Really? Wow!" the second airman replied, then said to the nearest passer by, "Hey! They made out in a closet!"

Unfortunately, due to the way the message was passed, the recipient didn't quite catch the finer nuances of the sentence, and gleefully passed on the rumor that "they hooked up someplace wet." Within thirty seconds those who started the rumor couldn't recognize it.

* * *

Lieutenant Monroe, an airman typically assigned to guard the gateroom, happened to pass by Doctor Lee on his way off shift. Although an uncommon association on base, the two occasionally spoke, so Monroe took the opportunity to call out, "Hey."

"Hey," Doctor Lee replied.

"How goes the research?" Monroe asked.

"Good, good." Lee replied, bobbing his head. "Anything new in the gateroom."

"Usual, nothing too interesting, except...well, you know all about that," Monroe said with a shrug.

"Wait, what?" Lee asked, eyeing the airman warily.

"You know, about Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter..." Monroe prompted.

"What about them?" Lee asked.

"You don't know?" Monroe replied skeptically.

"No, what?" Lee demanded. Monroe started walking away and Lee had to jog a couple steps to catch up with him. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To the armory," Monroe said nonchalantly.

After a pause, Lee asked, "Why?"

"To get some C-4 so we can take care of that rock you've been living under," Monroe replied, cracking a smile.

"Hey guys. You'll never guess what I just saw," Colonel Cunningham said, ambushing them where two hallways intersected.

"Is it about Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter?" Monroe asked.

"Yes," Cunningham replied.

"Out with it," Monroe said.

"Alright," Cunningham began. "I saw them coming out of General Hammond's office arm in arm. They must have noticed we were on to them and gone to get permission from the General. Maybe he suspended the regulations for them."

"Wow, that's really...cute," Lee interjected.

Monroe chose to overlook the odd sounding comment from the scientist and said skeptically, "Come on, do you really think General Hammond would do that?"

"Why not?" Lee asked.

"Because there's rules, that's why not!" Monroe exclaimed.

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter have been breaking those rules," Cunningham reminded them.

"...True. But are you sure?" Monroe asked.

"Of course I'm sure. Other people saw them too. The betting pool's having a field day, last time I heard there's big money on them getting engaged within the week," Cunningham said.

"I still don't know..." Monroe sighed.

"Care to make a wager, then? You'll be a rich man if you're right," Cunningham suggested.

"Guys," Lee said suddenly.

"I'm not sure I can resist that, put me up for fifty that they don't do anything drastic by next week," Monroe said, ignoring the scientist.

"Hey!" Lee interjected loudly.

"Fifty for nothing funny by next week, you got it," Cunningham replied, still paying Lee no heed.

"Fellas!" Lee demanded, batting weakly at their arms for attention.

"What?" Monroe practically yelled.

"Look!" Lee breathed, pointing out what was so intriguing to him.

Jack and Sam were walking down the hallway, arm in arm as Cunningham had described. None of the men could bring themselves to speak, until Monroe finally managed to squeak out, "We never shook on that bet, did we?"

All his companions could do was shake their heads they were so stunned.


	6. Almost Like Being in Love

­­­­­Author's Note: I hope you guys realize just how great you are. I didn't expect to get many reviews for this fic (it being my first and all), but it's already pushing fifty. Thanks bunches! And so, as a reward for so kindly reviewing and as an apology for the tardiness of the last chapter, here's more, way earlier than I expected to post it.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Almost Like Being in Love**

For the time being, General Hammond's tactic seemed to be working, there were certainly no new rumors and the moment. In fact, the only interruption of the stunned silence that followed Jack and Sam down the hallway was the inaudible thud of forgotten jaws hitting the concrete floor. If it weren't for all the stares they were getting this would have been downright...perfect.

Jack leaned down closer to Sam and asked, "Lunch?"

She nodded in agreement then did something he truly did not expect. She rose up on her toes and gave him a short peck on the cheek.

Jack thought he heard someone behind them pass out onto the ground, and he was feeling about the same way.

That was just for good measure right?...Right?

A move like that seemed so completely contrary to Carter's usual demeanor, not... that he knew...or anything. Most people were aware that Jack wasn't nearly as thick as he made out to be, but Sam was the one thing he couldn't wrap his head around for the life of him, and trying was giving him a headache.

He was still feeling a little tingly all over, starting from his cheek, a feeling he hadn't had since...since...all right, since Sam had to admit her feelings to prove she wasn't a zatark. But they'd left that in the room, or at least he had...tried...hard.

All right so maybe he hadn't managed it. How long did he last after they admitted their feelings? Around two weeks and fifty time loops? Of course the temptation couple with knowing that there would be no consequences made for a pretty sound excuse. And it wasn't like anyone could ever find out.

Once she got over the initial shock of being knocked off her feet in such a fashion, Sam was actually a very good kisser Jack caught himself thinking, then immediately chided himself. She was his second in command.

The only reason they were here in the commissary picking food off each other's plates among the stunned silence and stares of the room's other inhabitants was to teach these gosspiers a lesson, and then everything had to go back to the way it was before.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Jack concluded as Sam caught his eye and flashed him one of her heart melting smiles. "Oh, yeah, much harder than I thought."

Sam caught the bemused look on her commanding officer's face and immediately refocused her attention on her salad. That wasn't the reaction she'd intended at all.

Going from locking all her feeling's for Jack in a box to being ordered to let some of them back out again marked a very sudden change. That wasn't the problem, though. In fact, she'd have been lying if she said she hadn't secretly been longing for such a thing to happen.

Hammond's decree that this would all go back to normal after the problem was solved wasn't so much the issue either. They'd done that before without much difficulty, and although it was far from her preferred outcome, Sam was certain she could do it again.

Not to mention the fact that every man she'd ever cared about had wound up dead. Hopefully this'd be over before Jack became number...what? Five? Six? Far too many.

No, the one issue she had with all this was that they had to be so public about it. That was the entire point, though, so there wasn't any way around it. It was, however, the purpose behind the look she'd given the Colonel a few moments earlier.

It was amazing, they could communicate the location and size of an enemy force with barely a look, but she couldn't get him to tone it down, evidenced by his sly attempts to steal another crouton from the side of her plate. She tried to relay the message again, a little less subtly this time. He understood and returned to his sandwich with an apologetic shrug.

* * *

When the pair left a few minutes later, the crowd in the commissary still hadn't managed to string any words together. Jack walked Sam back to her lab, intending to procrastinate as much as he could before returning to his overdue reports.

Sam thanked him for lunch and turned toward her computer, but Jack caught her hand and pulled her back gently.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, referring to his behavior in the commissary.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Sam replied. "We're both on a mission of sorts, you were doing your job."

"No," Jack said firmly. "I was out of line. I want you to know that just because I'm your commanding officer is no reason for you to subjugate yourself to me. If you ever feel uncomfortable with anything we have to do, just let me know and I'll stop."

"Thank you, that means a lot to me," Sam said. More than he knew.

Only one relationship she'd ever had managed to get off the ground, and Jonas never would have said anything remotely similar to that to her. He never respected her. Then the terrible memories of that engagement along with the failed attempts at every other relationships she'd ever been in flooded her mind, despite her best efforts to force them back in the box at the back of her mind where they belonged.

It was no use, before she could do anything about it any remaining military detachment evaporated and her inward anguish made itself manifest in the form of hot tears. She tried to turn around and pretend that nothing was wrong, but Jack didn't believe it for a second. He turned her back around and after a moment's uncomfortable indecision, pulled her into a tight hug.

Sam completely collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Jack couldn't fathom what had made his second in command break down like this, but he must have had a general idea of what he had to do with it all because he repeated, "I'm so sorry, it's okay, you'll be alright," and other things to that end over and over while she cried years of pent up pain and fear and anger into his shoulder.

When Sam's sobs receded into random hiccups, Jack guided her to the nearest chair and sat down next to her offering her a box of tissues, which she took gratefully.

"I'm sorry, sir," Sam said shakily, dabbing at her eyes, "I shouldn't have let that happen."

"No, no, not a problem," Jack said quickly. "I'm sure it was what I said that set you off."

"It's not your fault, sir," Sam sighed.

"You want to talk about it?" Jack asked.

When some trinket on Carter's desk suddenly became very interesting to her, he decided to press the matter. "Was it about Jonas?" This was mostly a stab in the dark, but it was the only person he could think of that might cause that kind of reaction in his second in command. She had never really talked to anyone about him as far as he knew, not even after they returned from the planet of which he'd made himself god.

A few new tears snaked their way down the stains on Sam's cheeks and she nodded solemnly. After a patient nod of encouragement for Jack she began her story. It was several hours in the telling as Sam couldn't bring herself to censor many details. Jack sat beside her patiently the entire time, rubbing her back gently. When she finished her story, Sam looked relieved and Jack had decided that the back of the iris was too kind a fate for the pervert, although he knew better than to share his conclusion with Sam at the moment.

Sam took a glance at her watch, then another, then looked at the clock on her wall. So her eyes hadn't deceived her, it was after 1500. She scrambled quickly to her computer, intending to make up the lost time, but once again Jack stopped her.

"Sam, I think you should take the night off."

"With all due respect, sir, it seems to me that I just took all afternoon off," Sam said, the tension rising in her voice, although she hadn't missed the fact that he'd just called her by her first name. "I was behind before all this started," she added.

"You're not going to be able to work like this and you know it," Jack reminded her.

Sam paused and glanced at her computer. Apparently he was right; she had just opened the wrong program, and below that on the screen was a message she'd written herself with one hand a column of keys farther over than it should have been. Sighing, she shut down her computer and began flipping off the power to her various pieces of equipment.

"I'll give you a ride," Jack said, searching his pockets for his keys.

"Oh, no, it's alright," Sam stammered. "I can drive myself."

"No you can't," Jack replied.

He was right again, of course, and Sam gave up attempting to argue.

* * *

"You gonna be alright?" Jack asked as he walked Sam to her door. "I could stay awhile."

"I'm fine, sir, thanks," Sam said as she struggled to locate the proper key with her shaking hands. Before she managed it, the keys slipped free of her grasp. Jack bent down and picked them up and unlocked the door for her.

"Thanks, sir," Sam sighed.

"Name's Jack, you know," he pointed out.

Sam straightened up to her full height and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Jack." Then she stepped inside and closed the door, leaving Jack with his very confused thoughts.


	7. Yo yos

**Chapter 7: Yo-yos**

Jack stared a moment at the closed door, the only barrier between himself and Sam, not to mention the only worthy distraction from his thoughts. She had kissed him, again! But even stranger than that was the difference between that kiss and the one he had received in the hallway on base.

The first one had been playful, this was all still a joke to them at the time.

The other one had been filled with gratitude, and trust, and maybe even...well, he shouldn't read too far into that.

But there was still the fact that they weren't on base anymore. Without any gossipers to confuse they didn't have to keep up the act

Oh, yes, there was that.

* * *

­­­­ 

When Jack got to his house the automatically reached in the fridge for a beer, flicked the cap to whatever oblivion other bottle caps go to after they've served their purpose, and took a swig, pondering the current situation.

This was so messed up...there was no denying this was what he wanted, but the circumstances were far from ideal. He felt truly sorry about making Sam cry, it wasn't his intention at all, and if this little mission of theirs would set her off that easily then maybe they should stop right now.

But that would be an unfortunate waste of a perfectly good opportunity to freak out the entire base and finally get to date Sam. Then there were those rumors they were supposed to be getting rid of. It would be nice to have those out of the way.

After realizing that those five minutes of careful consideration had gotten him no where, Jack vowed to never waste his time in such a way again, and reverted to his usual practice when confronted with a situation he'd rather not think about. He pulled out a yo-yo.

Jack looped the string around his finger then threw the object toward the ground. It got stuck at the bottom and spun out. He wound the yo-yo back up and tried again, achieving the same effect.

He would be pro at walking the dog if he could ever get the animal to come back to his hand.

They were kind of like yo-yos, he and Sam, always bouncing towards and away from each other. On again, off again, although more off again than on. All right, fine, practically never on, just like his yo-yo; he could never seem to catch the damn thing.

There were more similarities than that, though. Sometimes the yo-yo sprang back perfectly into his hand and everything was happy and wonderful.

Sometimes it swung around his head and took out someone else, like Orlin, or Martouf, or Narim, or his beer bottle.

And...ouch!...oh, yes, sometimes it did that.

So what was keeping him from catching the yo-yo? Well, gravity, but was there a good way to fix that? Would a yo-yo even work without gravity? No doubt Sam would be able to explain it in painstaking detail, and no doubt Jack wouldn't understand a word of it. Maybe that was part of the problem.

Jack pulled off the string and put the toy away, all this yo-yoing was making his brain hurt and cutting off circulation to his finger.

* * *

A/N: Alright, sorry this is so short, I meant for it to be longer but ran out of yo-yo metaphors. The next one's longer, I swear, and I'll get it posted tomorrow or Friday, hopefully. 


	8. Obvious Problems

**Chapter 8: Obvious Problems**

When Sam woke up the next morning she felt great. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd gotten more than her usual four hors of sleep, or because she'd finally gotten the experience with Jonas off her chest, or both, but whatever it was it had done her good.

She ran an extra mile around her neighborhood and went through a round of pilates with gusto before starting her coffee maker and hopping in the shower. Fifteen minutes later she was dressed for work and sipping her cup of coffee, pondering her obvious problem. Since Colonel O'Neill had driven her home the previous evening, her car was still on base.

That in itself wasn't much of an issue, she hadn't had a good excuse to ride her motorcycle in a while. The real problem was that although he hadn't brought it up last night, Colonel O'Neill was sure to feel obligated to giver her a ride back, especially since he blamed himself for making her unable to drive in the first place. However, as a general rule, the Colonel reported in much later than she did, and the amount of work that was no doubt conquering all open space on her desk by now preempted her from taking advantage of the free ride anyway.

Deciding this, Sam picked up her phone and dialed her commanding officer's house, hoping that the ringing wouldn't wake him up, and that he would actually check his answering machine before he left.

About halfway through her simple message she realized how out of place it would sound to call him sir, but calling him Jack wasn't any better. In the end, she managed to compromise awkwardly and not actually call him anything.

­­­

* * *

Despite being shocked into submission the day before, the rumors seemed to have returned with a vengeance. Sam could feel the stares on her back and hear the whisper that chased her through the hallways. However, no one had yet confronted her about the situation: Sam assumed that was mostly because she and Colonel O'Neill hadn't arrived together. If there was living proof that whatever was going on between them had lasted more than a few hours the gossipers might not have been so timid.

Of course, there probably would be such proof as soon as the Colonel did report in, but they would have to deal with that later. Right then, her main priority was to knock the stack of work on her desk down to size, and she locked herself in her lab all morning with that intention.

Unfortunately, she found herself unable to work as efficiently as usual, as she was having trouble maintaining her concentration. She was plagued mostly by memories of the previous evening. It was just over there where she had cried into Jack's shoulder for nearly half an hour. She had been sitting in this very chair when she had told him all about her failed engagement to Jonas.

It was while Sam was on a similar tangent that the door to her lab opened noisily and the subject of her daydream walked in.

"Afternoon, Carter," Jack said.

"Afternoon, sir," Sam replied automatically, paying more attention to the fact that the morning had apparently evaporated out from under her than what she was actually saying.

"I thought we went over this yesterday," Jack said, crossing his arms. "You can call me Jack, I won't tell the Chief of Staff or the President or anybody."

"Sorry, old habit," Sam replied. "You can call me Sam, by the way."

"Did I not?" Jack asked.

Sam thought about if for a moment, then said, "I don't thinks so." She usually had a better memory than that, but she'd been distracted at the time.

"Oh, old habit," Jack shrugged. "Lunch?"

Sam looked ready to protest; citing the amounts of work she had yet to finish, but a second look at the stack revealed that what remained would take less than two hours. Apparently, the morning hadn't been as unproductive as she originally thought.

In any case, Jack beat her to the punch, saying, "I understand if you're uncomfortable with all this, it's got to be one of the strangest missions I've ever been on, but Hammond still thinks that if we just go with it these rumors will go away faster."

"I know," Sam replied. "It's not so much that I'm uncomfortable..." Yeah it was, just not for the reasons he was assuming. She sighed and said; "Do you think we could just avoid the commissary?"

"We could," Jack said, "but staying holed up in your lab all day won't get the job done either."

"Well, what if we ate off base?" Sam suggested. "Then people would see us leave and come back together, but we won't have to eat with everyone staring at us." This was actually starting to sound better and better. "I could give you a ride on my motorcycle," she added.

That was the cincher. Jack had to admit he'd been itching to ride her...bike. He shook his head quickly as thought that would help banish the thought quicker. "Let's go!"

Sam grabbed an extra helmet from a cupboard and passed it to him. Both the airmen were so excited that Jack didn't bother to ask her why she kept an extra helmet on base and they held hands without even thinking about it, something that did not go unnoticed by the curious inhabitants of the base.

A few minutes later, Jack and Sam were winding their way down the mountain. Jack sat in back and held on to Sam's shoulders tightly. He could understand why Sam enjoyed riding her motorcycle so much. It felt like piloting a fighter jet, except slower and windier.

Such was his trust in Sam's abilities that he didn't worry at all when he noticed she was going more than twice the posted speed limit, nor did he flinch when a car moving the opposite direction sped around a blind at the same time as they did, nearly clipping them.

Sam pulled into the first restaurant she found, a small café located a few miles after the road to the complex intersected with a larger road through the mountains.

They found a table and ordered their food, then remained in an uncomfortable silence, each waiting for the other to speak. Jack broke first.

"So, you know where we're heading next?"

Sam glanced around quickly, looking for potential eavesdroppers, then jumped into the question with a fetish. Jack took in the details of the mission, although he paid more attention to Sam's ability to make it sound like they were going somewhere in Asia instead of another planet.

It did worry him a little that Sam seemed so enthusiastic about a way to avoid the reason why they were sitting in a cheap café acting like lovers after a fight instead of the commissary as friends. Was 'this never has to leave this room' code for 'I'm moving on'? Probably. But then what about last night? She'd seemed so willing to embrace their mission. Had that simply been the product of her skewered emotions?

Damnit Sam, Daniel's supposed to be the enigma of the team.

Sam seemed to have run out of mission specs to talk about, and was now rambling hopelessly. Jack cut her off by reaching across the table for her hand.

"Sam, I think we need to talk about this."

She looked up desperately and caught his eye, and then he saw it, that look of hers that said, 'Please stop, before we're both destroyed.' When he last saw that look they had been on opposite sides of a force shield on a ship that was about to explode. Good times. But there was nothing even remotely like that happening.

Then for a moment he understood. She was scared. Come to think of it, he couldn't blame her, from what he'd gathered, her record in such matters was far from stellar.

Well, he hadn't backed off on that ship, and things worked out all right.

Jack began to steel himself up to speak again, but Sam beat him to it.

"I don't know if I can do this."

Ordinarily, Jack might have been tempted to make some crack about her getting cold feet, but under the circumstances the thought didn't eve cross his mind, instead he said, "I know, I feel the same way."

"It's not that I don't..." Sam trailed off miserably.

"It's okay," Jack assured her. "You're scared, I am too."

Sam looked started at the accuracy of his perception and his own blatant confession, then sighted, "Yeah, I guess I am. So what do we do?"

"Um...well," Jack stammered. "We could just...I mean...If your okay with it...since...Hammond...you know...suspended the regulations...if you want to..."

Sam picked up where Jack left off, but didn't have much more luck putting a sentence together. "All right...but what about...you know...since hopefully these rumors won't...I mean, Hammond won't let this go on forever...and then what?"

They both smiled awkwardly and their failed attempts to speak. Sam was typically relatively eloquent, and although Jack had never been accused of possessing such a sill, he usually said what was on his mind without censor anyway.

Instead of trying to communicate in words again, Jack simply squeezed Sam's hand and she understood. They would figure it out when they got there. She squeezed his hand back in response.

Jack broke into a huge lopsided smile and pulled her into a tender kiss over the table. They broke off a moment later when the waiter arrived with the check. Jack insisted on paying for both of them.

On the ride back up to the mountain, Jack held on to Sam tightly around the middle, even thought he wasn't any more worried about them crashing than he had been on the way down.

When they arrived at the base, Sam discovered she was no longer embarrassed about making their relationship public.

* * *

A few more observant people must have noticed a change in the dynamic of Jack and Sam's relationship, because the amount of rumors about them increased once again over the next few days, prompting Daniel to ask them straight out what was going on. However, as General Hammond predicted, a couple days later they slowly but surely began to dissipate.

Jack had been spending most of his time in Sam's lab, to the point that she had to hook up another computer to make sure he got some work done.

He was staring blankly at his computer screen and Sam was nearby at her own computer, typing furiously. Jack sighed, he'd been trying to stall while still looking like he was working, but minesweeper was only entertaining for so long.

In the hallway, two airmen could be talking loudly as they approached the open door to Sam's lab.

Smiling gleefully at the excuse, Jack got up and walked over to Sam, glancing only briefly at the equations and text on her computer then began messaging his shoulders. Sam tilted her head appreciatively but didn't stop typing, although her accuracy on the keyboard dropped by about half.

The two airmen passed the open door and continued down the hallway, neither one able to resist looking inside curiously as they walked by. A few moments later they passed out of earshot, but Jack didn't stop.

He hadn't seen this many knots in one place since rope tying in basic training. He wanted to make her stop working, to find some way to release all the stress and tension from her body. He wanted to kiss her so much he could hardly stand it.

Suddenly, Sam stopped typing and reached a hand up to grab one of Jack's. Apparently she couldn't stand it either.

They crushed their lips together in a passionate kiss. Jack tipped Sam onto her desk, then climbing up on top of her, kissed her arms and neck and mouth, and she kissed him right back.

For a moment they didn't care about base protocol or etiquette, or how much trouble they might be in if they were caught despite the lack of regulations. They were almost oblivious to the world around them. Almost.

"Stand to, airmen."

_Oh, shit._


	9. Trouble

**Chapter 9: Trouble**

General Hammond wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd made the trip down to Sam's lab to inform them of the decreased amount of rumors and thank them for a job well done. When he saw their compromised position he'd had half a mind to just leave and pretend he didn't see anything.

They were under orders to act like they were dating, after all, and as responsible Air Force officers they must have had some legitimate reason for their behavior. However, there were no other people in the immediate area to put on such a show for, and the two were quickly overstepping the boundary of appropriate base behavior even if they hadn't been a commanding officer and his second in command.

As it was, O'Neill and Carter were standing at attention in front of him, both slightly disheveled and looking like two cadets being brought up on charges, which was probably about how they felt.

"When I suggested this little endeavor this was not what I had in mind," General Hammond said loudly as he paced in front of them.

Neither one made a move to defend themselves, wishing instead that the ground would take pity on them and swallow them up, putting them out of their misery, but no such kindness seemed forthcoming.

On the other hand, no matter how embarrassed they might have felt, both knew that they couldn't actually get in trouble for their actions. Hammond himself had suspended the fraternization regulations for them, after all. However, they also knew that pointing this out for the General in his present mood wasn't a particularly good idea. In any case, they were more worried he would call of the experiment. Now that they'd finally started a relationship they were loath to loose the one reason for its existence so quickly.

"I am well aware that you've had feelings for each other in the past," Hammond continued, "but I trusted you to be able to handle this professionally. Apparently I was wrong."

They did feel bad about that. He trusted them with his life just about as much as they trusted him with theirs and betraying that trust was just after betraying anyone on SG-1's trust, at the top of their list of things not to do. However, it was a bit naïve on his part to assume that they would be able to stay completely professional, and probably bore the mark of a man who'd been married for the past 30 years.

"There are reasons we have these kinds of rules," Hammond ranted. "I can't in good conscience send to into a potentially hostile situations knowing your judgement may be compromised."

He had a point there, but seemed to forget the part about how he knew they'd had 'feelings for each other in the past,' and they couldn't count the times that reality had made the difference between coming back alive and well or in a body bag. Still, vaguely acknowledging that the feelings were there, then leaving them in a room was a far cry from actually acting on them.

Hammond seemed to have run out of arguments, so he said, "Would you like to explain yourselves?"

"Yes, sir," Jack started slowly, but gained speed quickly. "You see, we were in here working, completely professional..."

"Then we heard a couple people coming down the hallway," Carter interjected.

"So we, you know, did what you suggested," O'Neill said, deliberately trying to be vague and spread the responsibility around a little.

"Then I suppose things started to get a little out of hand," Carter said softly.

"And...um..."

"Yeah..."

"I think you know the rest, sir," Jack said finally.

Hammond looked them both in the eyes, searching for any evidence that they hadn't told the whole truth, even though he knew it was mostly pointless. These people were trained to trick lie detector tests, well, most of them, a brief once over wasn't going to tell him much. And he didn't much feel like asking the Tok'ra for their zatark detector.

"It won't happen again, sir," Sam said glumly.

"Damn right it won't," Hammond snapped, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he intended.

So this was it, then, he was going to make them call it all off and make everything go back to the way it was before. When this all started they'd thought it would be easy, that seemed so long ago. Now they could hardly even remember how it was before. They'd have to figure it out all over again.

"I came down here because I wanted to thank you for a job well done, it seems that the rumors have been decreasing like we'd hoped," Hammond said. "Everything in me tells me to call off this experiment, for everyone's sake, especially yours. But I also know that doing that would only add fire to these rumors again; therefore I am going to allow you to continue. However, you are under strict orders no to let this get out of hand again. If you do, then the punishment will be swift and severe. Understood?"

"Understood, sir!" they chorused.

Hammond gave them one final look and left. Sam sat down in the nearest chair, shaking slightly. Jack wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and tell her it would be all right, but he knew he couldn't. She suddenly started typing furiously on her computer, mumbling something about making up for lost time.

"I think I'm gonna go back to my office," Jack said. Sam merely nodded, so he cast one final lonely look at her, and left.

* * *

Sam stared dully at her computer screen; any facet of being productive had dissolved as soon as Jack left. She knew deep down that the General was correct in his decision, but she was spending less effort acknowledging that than trying to ignore the part of her that wished Jack would come and sweep her up onto his white horse so they could ride off into the sunset together and live happily ever after.

For that matter, she couldn't quite figure why that idea was putting up such a fight in the first place, she knew that the white picket fence way of life was merely an illusion, and she'd been valiantly attempting to avoid any serious relationships since she'd figured that out, with one unfortunate exception, of course, which had only made her run faster.

Sam was deep in thought when Janet stepped in. It took several attempts before the Doctor was able to get Sam's attention, which made her a little concerned.

"What's up?" Janet asked, sitting down across from her friend.

"Nothing," Sam replied, fighting off a sigh. "Work stuff."

"Right," Fraiser said, "Anything to do with your and Colonel O'Neill's little mission?"

"No," Sam lied. She didn't really want to talk about it at the moment.

Fraiser, however, wasn't about to take that for an answer. "If you think I've going to believe that you obviously haven't been playing enough poker recently. Now I notice the Colonel's not in here."

"He said he was going to his office," Sam sighed.

"Why?" Janet pressed. When Sam looked like she wasn't going to answer, she added, "Out with it."

Sam knew there would be no avoiding it so she explained about the entire fiasco with General Hammond. Janet hung on her every word. Not only was she concerned about Sam as her doctor and her best friend, but she also had some interest in the base's celebrity couple, only without the taste for the tall tales of the base grapevine.

By the time Sam finished her story she looked exhausted, so Janet held off on the advice and suggested that Sam go home and get some rest instead. Naturally, Sam attempted to resist, saying she was fine and that she had a lot of work to catch up on, and naturally, Janet threatened to make it into an order. Sam said that she could crash for a couple of hours on base, then get back to work, and Janet insisted that she go home, now.

There was little arguing with the Doctor once she'd made up her mind, but no self-respecting workaholic ever gave it up without trying to debate with her. When Sam asked if Janet was planning to take her own advice and go home as well, she mumbled something about SG-7 being in a potentially hostile situation then asked if she needed to get an SF to escort Sam to the surface. She stopped trying after that.

* * *

Jack didn't go to his office. He considered the commissary briefly, and Daniel's office, Teal'c quarters, the control room, the infirmary even, but found himself checking out at the surface instead. He didn't go to his car either; he simply wandered out of the tunnel into the cool October night.

He hadn't expected this to be that difficult. Carter first and foremost his second in command, they were professional, co-workers, Air Force officers, or so he kept telling himself.

As much as he wanted to throttle him, they had whoever started these rumors to thank for allowing him and Sam to be together, although at the moment that seemed more like a bad thing.

Why did this have to be so twisted? What cruel fate decided that the only person he'd ever truly been happy around since Charlie died was also the one person in the world he wasn't allowed to be with?

Then again, General Hammond hadn't ordered them to stop; he'd asked them to continue to a lesser degree. So where did that leave them? Could they really live with themselves and each other knowing they could only go so far without destroying themselves?

He knew Sam would rather err on the side of caution, she had her work to fall back on and distract her from her feelings, at least on the outside. But she wasn't really that much of an ice queen.

Jack sighed and gazed up at the sky, watching the stars come out. Them an idea struck him, and excellent brilliant idea, even for him, and if it worked, these issues could be resolved once and for all, and those rumors too. He ran to his car and drove home, this was going to take some planning.


	10. A Dozen Roses

**Chapter 10: A Dozen Roses**

Sam was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing that if she wasn't allowed to work that she could just fall asleep, because having absolutely no distraction from her thoughts was agony.

When she finally drifted off into a restless sleep, she dreamed that SG-1 had been captured off world and Jack was being tortured while she was forced to watch, unable to help.

She woke in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat, and, unable to shake the memories or the adrenaline, she decided to go for a long run.

Sam managed to loose track of time spectacularly while jogging, and by the time she got back she only had a few minutes before she had to leave in order to arrive at the base on time. She decided to forgo her usual meager breakfast in favor of a shower. Ten minutes later she was locking her front door and heading to her car.

She was about to pull into the street when something abnormal caught her eye: pinned elegantly under her windshield wiper was a red rose with a piece of paper tied to its long stem.

Sam got out and grabbed the rose, eyeing the note. On it was written the letter M. She wasn't sure what she'd expected it to say, but that wasn't it.

It did answer a few questions, however, and she had to give Jack some major points for coming up with this. Based on the brevity of the message, this obviously wasn't the last rose she'd find today. Therein lied its brilliance. She'd spend the entire day finding roses round the base with random letters attached to them, all the while leading the gossipers to believe that Jack was asking her to prom or something, and then when it was all said and done she and Jack didn't actually have to do anything, and it was almost certain that they wouldn't after the thrashing they'd received yesterday.

She'd really have to thank him for this later.

Smiling slightly, Sam placed the rose on the passenger seat and began the drive to the base, now several minutes late, but not really caring.

* * *

When she arrived at the security check and placed her hand under the palm scanner, the airman manning the desk handed her another rose, explaining hastily that he'd been ordered to give it to her by someone else, although he wouldn't say who, not that Sam really needed to ask. As she stepped into the elevator she read the note attached to the flower, O. So far she had an M and an O, maybe Jack was trying to spell out the names of the Three Stooges.

Sam was downright excited to reach her office that morning, since it was the most obvious place for another rose to be hidden, however, when she stepped inside she saw no immediate evidence of an intruder, or a rose. Undeterred, she opened a few cabinets and briefly looked through her bookcase in search of the elusive piece of flora. Still nothing, which struck her as odd, Colonel O'Neill was rarely that sneaky, or subtle. She wanted to keep searching a few more minutes, but the pile of unfinished work was beckoning to her a lot louder than the missing rose.

With a sigh, she turned on her computer and sat down, then smiled. Wedged between the keyboard and the monitor was another rose with the letter T attached to it. She pulled it out and placed it with the other roses. Apparently the three stooges idea was out, but it could be shuffled around to spell Tom.

A couple hours later she had finished several reports and an experiment and was beginning to feel the effects of skipping breakfast, so she left for the commissary. She reached toward the elevator panel to select the appropriate floor then stopped, amazed. Caught in the emergency phone was a fourth rose, a piece of paper with a letter L written on it tied to its stem. Sam grinned; the man was really going all out with this.

* * *

When she entered the commissary a few minutes later the entire room became hushed, but only for a moment. Then the silence was replaced with the low hiss of quiet conversations, and a few people cast knowing smiles at her. Sam chose to ignore this and got herself a cup of coffee and a bowl of Jell-O. As she went to sit down at her usual table she discovered what everyone was so giddy about, placed between the salt and the pepper was another rose, this time with the letter N on it. This brought the total number of flowers up to five, how long was this going to go on?

She ate her Jell-O slowly, pondering what Jack might be trying to spell; she was running out of words that used all the letters. Sam happened to glance at a clock and was alarmed to discover just how much time had gone by. She hadn't realized she was that lost in thought. SG-1 had a briefing in five minutes, and after Daniel had lost track of time and nearly missed the last one, she' promised to stop by his office and make sure it didn't happen again. This was going to be tight. Deciding this, she threw away the remainder of her snack and took of in the direction of Daniel's office.

As she'd suspected, Daniel was still there, pouring over an artifact and blissfully unaware of the time. He seemed confused to see her there at first and more curious about why she was holding two roses than why she was trying to get him out of his office, but she managed to get the message across eventually. Just as they were leaving Sam spotted another rose on a shelf near the door and grabbed it up. It had the letter A tied to it.

They were a few minutes late to the briefing, but it didn't matter because General Hammond was still in his office on the phone when they arrived.

Jack, the object of her agony, was just sitting there, looking slightly smug. He nodded to acknowledge their presence then went back to whatever he was doing, apparently a one sided game of tic tac toe which he nevertheless seemed to be loosing.

He was still watching Sam out of the corner of his eye, something that did not go unnoticed by her. She decided to pay extra attention as she went to sit next to her commanding officer, and her care was not uncalled for; sitting on her usual chair was another rose, this time carrying the letter S, and, as she discovered when she picked it up, it was the only one she had found thus far which hadn't been dethorned properly.

At least she knew why the Colonel was acting so smug, but at least he hadn't looked disappointed when she didn't sit on the flower. Jack was still watching her, so she nodded her thanks to him, along with one of her best smiles.

Sam had a great deal of trouble staying focused on the briefing, her thoughts kept drifting back to the roses and hypothesizing on what the Colonel might be trying to spell. When the briefing adjourned half and hour later Sam wasn't any more knowledgeable about their next destination than she'd been when she walked in.

* * *

General Hammond asked Jack and Sam to remain a moment after Daniel and Teal'c left.

"Brilliant idea, with the roses," he gushed. "Absolutely top-notch. Keep going like this and I imagine this will all be over in a few days."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said, not allowing his reply to betray his inner desire for the rumors to continue.

"Keep up the good work," the General added. "Dismissed."

Sam had gathered up her papers and was heading for the door near the General's office when she heard a meek, "Major Carter?" from behind her.

Sam spun around to face the person and found a nervous looking gate technician standing a few steps down the staircase leading to the control room. Sam recognized her but didn't know her name, a fact she regretted, because not only did she work with the technicians whenever there was a problem with the gate system, which was often, but they were also responsible for ensuring that no one ended up crushed against the back of the iris, thus making it an intelligent idea to stay on their good side.

"What can I do for you?" Sam asked, crossing the room to where the technician was standing.

"Our orders were pretty explicit, we're supposed to let you find it on your own, but we can't take it anymore..." she trailed off, noting Sam's confused look at her generalizations. "Could you just come down here a minute?"

Sam nodded and followed the technician down the stairs. They were greeted with a loud sneeze upon entering the control room and Sergeant Harriman gasped congestedly and blew his nose into a large handkerchief. The source of his misery, another rose, had been placed at the far end of the room, but its distance didn't seem to help either the Sergeant or his allergies.

"Doctor Fraiser could give you and antihistamine," Sam suggested to the ailing Sergeant as the moved to retrieve the flower.

"I'm needed here," he replied thickly.

"You're no good to anyone if you can't think straight," Sam informed him, while she glanced at the letter I attached to the rose. "The other technicians can handle it for awhile."

* * *

As she turned to leave something in the gate room happened to catch her eye, something red, but when she actually stopped to search for it, she couldn't find the thing. Nevertheless, red wasn't a common color in the gate room and it did happen to be the color of the roses, so she decided a closer look was in order.

When she entered the gateroom, the small piece of red wasn't any more obvious that it had been when she was looking for it from the control room, so she was forced to inspect all the corners and crevices that filled the gateroom while a group of curious airmen looked on.

She was becoming more and more embarrassed and flustered with her futile search by the moment, so she decided to get back to work and perform a more thorough search when there were fewer people around. However, that proved unnecessary, because, as she was crossing the gate room back to the door, she found the rose hidden in plain sight on the inside of the banister of the ramp, right where she couldn't have seen it when she walked in. It had the letter F attached to it.

* * *

While Sam was walking back to her lab, Doctor Fraiser fell into step beside her.

She eyed the roses suspiciously, then asked, "Where'd you get those?"

"Colonel O'Neill's been hiding them all over the base for me, "Sam explained. "I think he's trying to spell something."

"Any idea what?" Janet implored.

"Not a clue," Sam replied. "What's up with you?"

"Actually, I'm here to ask for a favor," Janet said.

"Oh, yeah? Name it," Sam told her.

"My MRI machine's been acting up," Fraiser explained. "I asked Siler to come and fix it hours ago, but he hasn't shown up. I think he might be afraid of me."

"I'm not surprised," Sam replied. "I heard about that lecture you gave him."

"It was his own fault," Janet shrugged. "What did he expect me to do, just sit back and tell him everything I know about you and Colonel O'Neill?"

"Thanks for that, by the way," Sam interjected.

"Not a problem," Janet replied. "Anyway, he hasn't come in with any medical complaints either, so if I managed to scare him into not hurting himself anymore I'd say it's a job well done."

They had arrived at the room where the MRI machine was held by now and Sam was checking the device over. "Any idea what the problem is?"

"Not really," Janet shrugged. "I first noticed this morning when I was trying to scan a patient, it didn't seem to respond to my commands and kept coming up with gibberish. We had to pull the plug to make sure it didn't turn on again."

"I'll check the interface," Sam said, moving to the appropriate area. She pulled out her swiss army knife to open a panel but discovered that the screws were already mostly loosened. She pulled off the cover and was astonished with what she found.

"Janet," she called. "Are you sure you aren't in on this rose thing?"

"'Course," Fraiser replied. "Why?"

"Because a rose is what's causing your problems." Sam lifted the flower out and placed it with the others. "It must have bridged a few of the wires."

"A flower can do that?" Janet asked.

"Sure," Sam shrugged, "anything that can conduct electricity. Flowers are mostly water."

"Weird, so what's it say?" Janet asked, glancing at the note attached to the stem.

Sam picked it up and said, "This random malfunction has been brought to you by the letter I."

"Sometimes I don't understand Colonel O'Neill," Fraiser sighed.

"Yeah, me neither," Sam replied. "But life would be a lot less interesting if her weren't around."

"I saw that."

"Saw what?"

"That."

"What was there to see?"

"You told me all about what happened yesterday, don't think I can't see right through you."

"We already got yelled at about that once."

"I told Siler nothing was going on between you two, don't keep making a liar out of me."

"Nothing is going on."

"Then what about yesterday?"

"A lapse in judgement and surge in hormones."

"Don't think I don't know what interesting means."

"Your MRI machine should work just fine now, I'll see you later."

"Say hi to Colonel O'Neill for me," Janet called after her, then she had to grab the nearest bed for support because she was laughing so hard. Sam was the only person she knew who could stand up to a beating like that and not take it personally.

Sam smirked at her friend's antics as she made her way back to her lab. She'd known most of the conversation was a joke from the very beginning, but had still had to fight tooth and nail to keep up with the Doctor, only to loose in the end anyway.

* * *

When she got to her office, Sam shut the door and hid the roses in a cabinet; nothing was going to distract her from her work this time.

A few hours later the monster had been slain and all her reports were residing in her out box. Her fingers were stiff and achy from pounding at the unforgiving keyboard and her eyes felt dry from staring at the screen for so long, but she didn't pay either ailment any real heed. Instead, she shut down her equipment, picked up her stack of reports and headed in the direction of General Hammond's office.

Poor man, he wasn't there when she arrived, so she placed her reports in his in box, which put hers to shame, even when she was having a busy day. She then made for the locker room, intending to change into her street cloths and then head home for the night.

She entered the locker room and flipped on the lights, then crinkled her nose in confusion. Another rose was sitting on a bench near her locker.

But this was the women's locker room.

Not that it was entirely inconceivable for Jack to wait until the room was empty then sneak in and place it there or else recruit someone to do it for him, but it did seem like a pretty great length to go to. Then again, this didn't even shine a candle on the effort required to stuff a rose into the inner workings of an MRI machine. How had he known she would find it in there anyway?

She picked up the flower, taking in its sweet perfume as she pulled the note around to read...G...great. In her excitement at finally finishing all her reports, Sam had almost completely forgotten about the roses. The rest were still in a cabinet in her lab.

As she changed, Sam contemplated the roses and the letters that came with them. Thus far she'd received eleven roses and the letters M, O, T, L, N, A, S, I, F, I, and G. She was inclined to guess that she had almost all of them, mostly because it was the end of the day and one more rose would make a round dozen. The significance of the number was not lost on her, but she chose to ignore it anyway.

She shuffled the letters around in her head, comparing them to country names, System Lords, and all the Simpsons characters she knew of but came up empty. There were simply too many letters to unscramble without looking at them, and based on the number of possible permutations, physically moving them around wouldn't be practical either. Thus, she refocused her attention on a computer program she could write to do the dirty work for her, causing the time it took her to tie her shoes to double.

The program didn't take long to write and test so before long she was watching as the computer scrolled through the different permutations and compared them to an online dictionary. When it didn't come up with any matches, or at least none that made any sense, she began to rethink her hypothesis that the Colonel was trying to spell something, but the duplicate I's almost nulled the possibility that the letters were random. Thus, she modified the program to arrange the letters into two words. However, she didn't have any luck until she changed it to three.

Finally the computer spit out the words: GOLF SAT MINI

_Minigolf Sat _

_Miniature Golf Saturday_

_Huh? _

All this time she'd thought the letters would amount to some random word and that she was trying to unscramble them for pure sport, but that message almost sounded like a proposition for a date. Then again, he could have just written that in case someone got really curious and decided to find all the roses and unscramble the letters themselves. She wouldn't know until she spoke to him.

That decided, Sam gathered up her roses and keys and headed for the surface.

* * *

When she reached her car Sam heard a familiar voice from behind her.

"Sam!"

"Hi, Jack," she forced out his first name.

"I was beginning to wonder if I needed to get someone to drag you out here," Jack said. "You do realize it's cold, right?"

"Sorry," Sam shrugged. He was right, as soon as she determined that he was going for a dozen roses, she should have figured that he would want to give her the last one in person.

"Anyway, I'm assuming you found all eleven?" Jack asked. When she nodded he continued. "And you figured out what it says?" Another nod. "Right, well, I suppose you'll be wanting the last one."

He pulled the final rose out from behind his back and handed it to her. She took it and looked at the note. It had a question mark. So it was definitely a proposition, but weren't they supposed to be in trouble for doing stuff like this?

"Don't you ever work, sir?" she asked, thinking of the time it must have taken him to get all these flowers and arrange them in places where he knew she would find them.

"Don't you ever stop working, Carter?" he replied. "What's so wrong with not saving the world every once in a while, it'll still be here when you get back. Why not just take some time off now and then, live a little, spend some time with your friends."

"I don't have all that much to do," Sam said plainly.

"Nothing wrong with a little companionship among friends, is there? I hear minigolf's fun..." Jack trailed off expectantly.

"I haven't played in years," Sam said, grasping for an excuse. "I'd probably be terrible."

"Good, me neither," Jack replied, rubbing his hands together. "Then maybe you won't beat me flat out like you do at pool. We could make a competition out of it."

"It does sound kind of fun," Sam shrugged.

"Great, I already booked a tee time," Jack said excitedly. Of course he hadn't, the game was miniature golf, after all, but the irony earned him a winning smile from Sam. "I'll pick you up around three?"

"Sounds good, sir," Sam replied.

"All right, well, enjoy your roses," Jack said as he opened her car door for her, "and quit calling me 'sir' all the time."

She waved and drove away, and it took every ounce of reserve in Jack's body to hold off on the victory dance until she was out of sight. His plan had worked like a charm.

When the thing started he'd been perfectly prepared for it to go either way, for them to shrug it off as another way to send the base personnel through a loop, or to end up going on a date, and he suspected that Sam had felt the same way. However, through a lucky bought of mutual misunderstanding, he was going to get to spend all of Saturday afternoon with her, as friends, granted, but there was plenty of time to change that.

He couldn't help but be excited that even though she was married to her job, best friends with a computer, and having an affair with a naquadah reactor, she still had time for him.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations. I know it didn't seem to jive very well at the beginning, there are only so many ways to say, "She found a rose and read the note." I hope you'll forgive me for that. By the way, major points to anyone who figured out what Jack was spelling before Sam did. Finally, this is getting down to the last few chapters and I want to make sure I wrap it up right, so I'll probably finish writing it before I post anything else. I've got a pretty good idea of where I'm going so it shouldn't take too long. Just bear with me for a little while, and then the last few chapters will be updated really quickly. Thanks for the reviews. 


	11. Saturday

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, school's been taking up a lot of time but the end is coming together pretty nicely (two chapters left after this one). Unfortunately, I probably won't be able to update again this weekend, I'm visiting a college then I have a paper to write, joy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Chapter 11: Saturday**

Sam gazed at herself in the full length mirror near her closet, then sighed and pulled off her shirt in favor of a sweater, tossing the discarded garment half hazardly on her bed. She looked into the mirror again, turned sideways and stared for a moment contemplatively, then exchanged her jeans for a skirt and glanced in the mirror again, still not satisfied.

She was astounding herself. She hadn't gotten this self-conscious about her appearance since...well, no, not then either. And this wasn't even a date, it wasn't even an afternoon with a friends. She knew her commanding officer. It was a winner take all, knock down, drag out, eighteen-hole minigolf death match.

As the amount of clothes piled on her bed began to outnumber those in her closet, she found herself glancing more and more often at the extra SGC uniform that hung in the back. Never before had wearing army fatigues seemed so appealing.

Eventually, she ended up wearing something very similar to what she'd had on in the first place.

Sam was touching up her hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, freezing her insides.

"Ready to meet your match?" Jack asked as she pulled open the door.

"Bring it on," Sam replied with a smirk, stepping outside and locking her door.

"You look great by the way," Jack said, opening the door to his truck for her. He saw her inside then ran around to the driver's side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack managed to dominate the first two holes, staying right around par while Sam went a little bit over. He had begun to congratulate himself on finally finding a game he was better at than Sam, ignoring the possibility that she was operating under a strategy, one that involved getting used to how much force she needed to apply to the ball and in what direction.

Somewhere around the fourth hole their positions reversed and Sam started scoring better by a stroke or two, something Jack chalked up to beginner's luck or a random crosswind. It wasn't until she got her ball around a corner, past a windmill, and over a water hazard for a hole in one on a par four that he finally admitted defeat.

"Sam, how did you do that?"

"Well, I had to visualize the vectors and estimate the force required to..." she started to explain.

"Let's pretend for a minute that I don't know anything about that stuff." Jack said, cutting her off.

"Easy enough," Sam shrugged. When Jack gave her a strange look she added, "You did ask how I did it."

"Alright then, how do I do it?" Jack amended.

"You have to decide how you want the ball to travel then figure out how to make it do that, knowing that, barring any slopes or walls, it will always travel in a straight line," she replied.

"It's that figuring out part that's the problem," Jack informed her.

"Why don't you just try it and I'll watch you," Sam suggested.

Jack did as she asked, but knowing Sam was studying his shot only served to fluster him even more than loosing at his own game already had. Thus, in his nerves, he hit the ball too hard and it skipped out of bounds into a nearby bush. Extracting it was a trick and cost them several minutes and a few minor scrapes.

When he was ready again, Sam suggested timidly, "Maybe a little softer this time?"

"Thanks," Jack replied huffily, "I got that."

However, he seemed to take the advice a little too seriously. This time the ball didn't even make it to the corner before it rolled to a stop. Sam knew better than to say anything this time.

Jack stepped up to the ball and hit it again, a little harder, but the windmill stopped it.

He rarely kept his emotions close to the surface, but it seemed as though golf balls were quickly encroaching on the list of things for which that rule was null. Sam decided to take a more direct approach.

As Jack moved to set up his next shot, Sam slipped inside the circle created by his arms and placed her hands over his around the golf club.

He stiffened, too shocked to object.

She moved his hands slightly and adjusted his aim but Jack was paying more attention to the way her body was pressed against his and the gently touch of her hands. A moment later she swung his club and moved the ball to a few inches from the hole. From there, Jack hit it in easily, despite being distracted by his thoughts: if he continued to golf poorly, would she do that again?

As it turned out, that wasn't necessary, his game improved dramatically as he followed more and more of her advice. Within a few holes he was scoring nearly as well as Sam. When he finally got his first miraculous hole in one, they both cheered excitedly and Jack lifted Sam up in a hug and spun her around. One might have thought they had defeated the Goa'uld, they were celebrating so.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the back nine both golfers had developed a comfortable working proficiency, so he competition heated up. Sam managed to stay ahead of Jack, but he was still keeping her on her toes. Eventually, however, Jack decided that there would be no beating Sam, so he changed his tactic to making it as difficult for her as he could by trying to hit her ball away from the hole with his own.

After Jack knocked her ball out for the third time, Sam decided that it wasn't 'just an accident' as he insisted, so she did him one better. His ball was residing in her ball's former position only an inch or two from the hole, at a perfect angle to hers. She aimed her ball at his and hit it, hard. It glanced off the side, which changed its direction and slowed it down, and it rolled straight into the hole.

Jack could only stand and gape as his ball rolled past his foot. Sam smiled at him and bent down to fish her ball out of the hole, and Jack took to opportunity pick her up and pretend to throw her in a nearby water hazard. He let her down gently, but she still held on to him for support, both were laughing uproariously. Sam managed to pull herself together long enough to shove him in the direction of the water in retribution, but grabbed his hand and pulled him back before he got wet. The momentum caused them to spin around each other until they nearly collapsed in each other's arms, laughing hysterically.

When they finally recovered enough to stand on their own, all competition was forgotten and they completed the course in high spirits, attempting to make the strangest shots they possibly could.

All too soon the eighteenth hole was completed and they had to return their balls and clubs. However, they were reluctant to leave, so they bough sodas and sandwiches then played such a furious game of air hockey that they attracted an audience.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eventually, they had no choice but to leave as the course was closing, so Jack drove Sam home. As he walked her to her door she gazed up into the gathering dusk where the first stars were beginning to appear.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said as he stopped and looked up with her.

"Knowing about all the bad guys up there takes some of the fun out of it." Jack shrugged.

"I haven't had a chance to look at the sky like this in forever," Sam sighed.

"I've still got that telescope on my roof," Jack suggested.

"You do?" Sam asked eagerly.


	12. Ballrooms of Mars

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay (holds wrists out for slapping). I've had lots of schoolwork and been sick on top of that, all my attention had to go to making sure my grades didn't slip any more than they had to. Humble apologies.

This chapter was inspired partially by they song "Ballrooms of Mars" by T-Rex (hence the title), figured I'd give credit where it's due.

**-----------------**

**Chapter 12: Ballrooms of Mars**

Jack saw Sam up the ladder to his roof then climbed up after her. By the time he reached the platform and sat down on the second of the two chairs Sam was already blowing dust off the main lens.

"You don't use this much do you?" she asked.

"Guess not, I've been a little busy saving the world all the time," Jack shrugged.

"True," Sam admitted, sighting a star and aligning the telescope. She gazed through the device then straightened up and wrinkled her nose. "Do you have any other eyepieces?"

Jack fished a box out from under his chair and handed it to her. She couldn't see the marks on the eyepieces, so she just pulled one out and put it on, then looked through it. She fiddled with the focus and alignment a moment then cried out suddenly, "Wow!"

"What do you have? And don't try telling me you've never seen it before," Jack said.

"Orion nebula," Sam replied. "This is a really good telescope. Want to take a look?"

Sam moved her chair back slightly to allow him room, but the limited area of the platform forced an invasion of personal space anyway. Jack gazed into the telescope for a minute, then sat down again. Both missed each other's warmth in the crisp October night.

"Have we ever been anywhere near there?" Jack asked as Sam switched out the eyepiece again and pointed the telescope in a new direction.

She thought about it for a moment, then said, " I think PX9-757 is nearby."

"Which one's that?" Jack asked?

"Armbands, Apophis's new ship, force fields…" Sam replied.

"Good times," Jack sighed.

"No kidding," Sam agreed. "Jupiter," she added, gesturing to the telescope. "I count six moons"

An awkward silence ensued between them as Jack looked through the device. When Sam could stand it no longer, she got up, allowing Jack to take her seat and do what he wanted with the telescope. She crossed her arms for warmth.

"You know, we've actually visited some of those stars," Sam said as she craned her head up to the sky. "From here they're just little dots of light, but most are bigger than the sun."

"Where've we been?" Jack asked, looking up from the telescope.

"Well," Sam began. She sighted various constellations to orient herself, then pulled out a hand and began pointing at different parts of the sky. "Abydos is over there, Vorash, Tollana, the Nox home world, Keb should be a few degrees right of the moon, and Chulak, oh…"

"Those clouds are getting closer," Jack observed, following her gaze.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, "I'm guessing that in about fifteen minutes we won't be able to see much of the sky at all."

"Darn," Jack replied.

"Want to look at the Andromeda galaxy before it gets covered?" Sam asked.

"That where the Asgard live?" Jack asked as they exchanged seats again.

"No, the Asgard are much further out, we can't see their galaxy from the Northern Hemisphere," Sam explained as she fiddled clumsily with the telescope. Her hands were becoming numb and the reflex to shiver was getting more and more difficult to repress.

Andromeda was so far away that getting a good look at it with a telescope was a trick under the best conditions, so her inability to make minute adjustments to the alignment and focus was causing problems. Sighing, Sam attempted to wiggle her fingers and rub her hands together, and action that did not go unnoticed by Jack.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Fine, thanks," she replied, but if there was one thing Jack had learned from working with this woman for the past five years it was how to tell when she wasn't fine, whether she admitted to it or not. Therefore, as she reached a pale and sickly looking hand out to the focus he grabbed it and pulled her over toward him, rubbing her freezing hands between his own and breathing warm air over them. He didn't release her until he was satisfied that her hands were warm enough.

When Jack felt a bit of something wet on his hair and face he didn't think much of it, but the problem persisted, so he pulled out a small flashlight, light bulb covered in red cellophane, and flipped it on, watched it sputter and die, and hit it sharply against the palm of his hand, then used the resulting beam to examine his arm in the hope of finding out what was going on.

"Sam, it's snowing."

Sam looked up from the telescope and gazed around in the dim light of the flashlight. Jack couldn't help but watch as the snowflakes settled on her hair and eyelashes and skin then slowly melted. Sam managed to catch one on her sleeve near her wrist and set about examining its delicate form as best she could.

"Is the first time of the year?" Jack asked.

"I think so," Sam replied.

"We should go inside," Jack suggested.

"It's not that cold," Sam said, "the snow's not even sticking."

"You're freezing and you know it," Jack informed her.

"In a few minutes, then, I've nearly got it," she said.

Jack sighed and agreed to the compromise.

Naturally, it took longer than those few minutes for Sam to find the galaxy to her satisfaction, a point that Jack made sure to point out at random intervals.

Not being one to give up, Sam continued fine-tuning the telescope despite his protests, and the resulting conflict of interests nearly drove Jack to pull rank or pick Sam up and carry her down the ladder, but luckily she finished before he got around to it.

After taking a moment to gaze at the galaxy herself, Sam relinquished the telescope and her chair to Jack and took his chair instead, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering and cold arms tucked close to her body.

Jack had fully intended to look at the galaxy for a few seconds at most, just to humor her, and then they could go inside and get warmed up. However, once he had a look he wished he could stay there forever, studying its vibrant colors and elegant spiraling tendrils and cursing the telescope which reduced Andromeda's core to a blurry smudge.

In all his years of traveling to distant stars he really had forgotten the majesty of actually watching them. It looked so perfect and untouched, but if there was life all over this galaxy, then it had to be all over that one, and he suspected they weren't doing a much better job of leaving the place the way they found it. Did the Milky Way look so serene from Andromeda, despite the acts of the Goa'uld and humans and Jaffa? When he looked at the arc of stars and dust than made their way across the sky behind Sam the thought didn't seem so outrageous.

He couldn't really see her, just her silhouette, but he was quickly coming to the same conclusion about her that he had about the Andromeda galaxy: she was damn good looking in the first place, but infinitely more beautiful when viewed without the bias of the SGC, and funny, and interesting.

Her head was craned up to the sky and Jack suspected she was smiling. Nonetheless, she looked slightly diminished in the cold, but stock still, as though she were frozen. Frozen.

"We should go inside," Jack informed her, a little more sternly than the last time.

"Sounds good," Sam replied.

Jack put the good eyepieces away and threw a tarp over the telescope then followed Sam down the ladder.

------------------

The front door was difficult to negotiate with his numb hands, but he managed it eventually.

They rushed into the welcoming heat and paused in the entryway, brushing off any hitchhiking snowflakes. Their next destination was the kitchen sink. The water couldn't have been more than room temperature, but it spelled agony for their frozen hands, which burned and stiffened and turned red in protest as their hot blood became reacquainted with the extremities.

Eventually, the water ceased to feel so hot, but the pain did not halt so easily, and their ears and noses and toes were coming to realize the difference between the temperatures they had and where they liked to be. Thus, Jack went off in search of blankets while Sam rummaged around the kitchen for the makings of hot chocolate.

-----------------

By the time Sam came into the living room, Jack had already coaxed a fire out of the fireplace. She passed him his mug then wrapped herself in a blanket and joined him on the couch, sitting only a few inches from him rather than the usual foot without even realizing it.

They sat in silence, sipping their hot chocolate, each agreeing that this was the only was to warm up after freezing out in the snow. Presently, their collective thoughts turned to their relationship, and the knowledge that they were once again overstepping the boundaries and that it was only a matter of time before General Hammond found reason to court martial them, but neither could come up with a satisfactory solution.

When Jack could no longer stand his own thoughts, he reached for the remote control and turned on the TV, then flipped through channels until he paused on an old documentary about the UFO crash in Roswell, New Mexico.

"That looks kinda like Thor," he remarked, as a picture of an alien flitted across the screen.

"Sure does," Sam replied, sitting up a little straighter.

They, of course, already knew that the aliens from Roswell looked exactly like Thor, and why, but the subject turned out to be one of great amusement to them, and they spent the next few hours laughing at the documentary and interjecting things that Thor liked to say whenever an alien popped up on the screen.

Every once in a while they'd play a game of twenty questions or talk about nothing and everything, but mostly nothing of any significance. Most importantly, they enjoyed each other's company.

Eventually, they settled into a comfortable silence and fell asleep on each other's shoulders while the forgotten TV continued to quietly blare infomercials about how to get rich fast or loose those extra pounds and the fire slowly burned down to embers.

-------------------

A/N: Next update later today, Happy Thanksgiving!


	13. And So It Goes

Author's Note: This is it, folks, the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it and all that other sappy stuff I have to say before I finally round this out. I thought I had a lot to say, but it turns out I don't (more at the end, probably). So here it is, my Thanksgiving gift. My apologies to any of you who wound up addicted, because there's nothing but cold turkey for you. And thanks again for all the reviews, it really makes me happy to read them. 

Like the last chapter, this was helped along by a song: "And So It Goes" by Billy Joel. If you haven't heard it, find it, now, because you've been deprived.

--------------

**Chapter 13: And So It Goes**

When Sam awoke the next morning it took her a moment to determine where she was, the ceiling she was staring at was certainly not her own.

It was Jack's: she was on his sofa.

How'd she get there?

The details came back obligingly, but absent from their order was a satisfactory explanation of when she'd decided to stay the night.

And what woke her up?

There were several possible explanations for that: the sun playing across her face, the active TV somewhere off to her left, but she decided it was probably because her hand was intertwined with someone else's and that someone was fiddling gently with her fingers.

She followed the arm up to the shoulder and discovered that it was Jack who had her hand, and that it was his leg that made up her very comfortable pillow. His attention seemed divided between the children's show on the TV and the remote control that was woefully just out of reach, so it was unlikely that he was doing anything to her hand on any conscious level. He didn't even seem to know that she was awake.

"Morning," Sam said finally, looking up at him.

"Hi," Jack replied, returning her gaze.

"You could have woken me up, you know," she informed him. The fact that he hadn't released her hand was not lost on her.

"Figured you needed sleep," Jack shrugged.

"Thanks," Sam said with a smile. "We've got a mission."

"On a Sunday, nonetheless," Jack pointed out.

"The Goa'uld don't care what day of the week it is, why should we?" Sam asked.

"Because it's Sunday," Jack maintained, "and its just reconnaissance, it doesn't have anything to do with the Goa'uld."

"I didn't hear you complaining about it at the briefing on Friday," Sam pointed out.

"I was too busy worrying about whether you'd find all the roses," Jack informed her.

"Touche," Sam replied.

"Breakfast?" Jack asked.

"Sounds good," Sam said, getting up.

--------------

"Bet it's sending those gossipers for a spin seeing us show up together," Jack said once they had passed through the security checkpoint on the surface.

"They'd probably all die if they found out we 'slept together'," Sam pointed out, accenting the key words of the sentence with air quotations.

"On my couch, nonetheless," Jack added.

Their laughter rang in Doctor Lee's ears long after the pair had already departed down the elevator, only drowned out by the words they had spoken. He had to tell someone.

--------------

"Hey, Lieutenant Monroe!" Doctor Lee called. "You'll never guess what I just heard!"

"Stop!" Monroe commanded. "About who?"

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter," Lee replied.

"Oh, them, they're old news," Monroe informed him. "Now wait until you hear about Doctor Jackson and Doctor Fraiser."

"Wait! When did this start?" Lee asked, flabbergasted.

"Don't tell me you picked up another rock," Monroe said accusingly.

"What? Me? Rock? Of course not…" Lee stammered. "But what happened?"

--------------

"Any idea what this is about?" Jack asked. He and Sam were waiting to be invited into General Hammond's office. They'd barely even had time to change into their green fatigues before being called there over the base intercom.

"Some," Sam sighed, "but I hope I'm wrong."

"Me too," Jack replied as they stepped inside.

"Colonel, Major, please sit down," Hammond said. They sat, more than a little apprehensive despite the General's cheery attitude.

"I've asked you here to thank you for your excellent work in quelling these rumors," the General started.

"It was nothing, sir," Jack replied, definitely not liking where the conversation was going.

"In fact," Hammond continued, "near as I can tell they have practically stopped."

"That's…good," Jack forced himself to say.

"Therefore, it would seem that you no longer need to keep up this act," he informed them, and, after correctly interpreting their sullen silence, added, "I trust that won't be a problem."

"No, sir," Jack replied, his voice hollow.

"All right," Hammond said. "Your next mission begins in an hour, I suggest you prepare yourselves. Dismissed."

"Carter," Jack forced out as he allowed her to precede him out the door.

It was amazing how out of place it seemed to call her by her surname, especially after the struggle it had taken to begin calling her Sam in the first place.

He briefly studied her blank face as she struggled to reign in her emotions and suspected he looked about the same way. He wanted nothing more than to hug her one last time, to tell her it would all be all right, but knew he couldn't. There were regulations about that, and they applied now.

--------------

The gear up room was much quieter than usual, as Jack and Sam scarcely trusted themselves to look at anyone, much less speak. Daniel tried several times to strike up a conversation, but since Teal'c was his only taker they all ended relatively quickly. Luckily, by the time they were ready to go, Jack and Sam had managed to force their emotions into check and resumed their usual military relationship, although grudgingly.

--------------

The mission went on like most others. They reached a group of ruins that the UAV had discovered in the late afternoon. Daniel and Teal'c set out trying to translate any inscriptions while Sam took some soil samples. Jack stood around bored, waiting for any Jaffa to come and try to kill them and trying not to watch Sam as she went about her tasks.

That night the team found a secluded clearing in a nearby forest and set up camp. As was tradition, they pitched their two tents, but arranged the sleeping bags outside around the fire. After their meager dinner they set watches and bedded down.

Sleep didn't come easily to Jack, so he simply lied on the hard ground and stared glumly into the fire and tried not to think too much, but failed miserably. He knew Sam…no, he knew Carter was just off to his right pretending to be asleep, but she was actually staring up into the sky. That was her game; she would try and spot familiar stars and constellations despite their change in location in the galaxy.

With a sigh, Jack flipped onto his back and waited for his vision to adjust to the stars. They appeared one by one, brightest first. To him they didn't look any different than they did on Earth, but he didn't know the constellations well enough to spot the difference.

This time yesterday he'd been freezing on his roof, stargazing with Sam. He'd wanted to go inside and get warmed up then, now he'd have given anything to go back and do it all over again. When he fell asleep a few minutes later he still hadn't managed to shake the desire.

--------------

Sam sat up suddenly, grabbing her P-90 as she rose. When the fire sizzled a moment later she turned toward it weapon at the ready. Her disturbance caught Teal'c's attention and he raised his weapon in suit and gazed into the inky darkness he had been keeping watch over.

For a moment Sam couldn't determine what had woken her up, but soon the answer was painfully obvious. A sudden downpour drenched the camp and its inhabitants, rudely awakening those who were still sleeping and dousing the fire. They didn't stand a chance against the sudden outburst and people and gear alike were soaked within thirty seconds.

"Tents!" Jack called, not that he really needed to, they were already gathering up their gear and scrambling for the nearest shelter.

Sam dove into a tent, then dropped her soggy gear in a corner and zipped up the flap, forcing back a shiver as she realized how cold she was. Common knowledge told her to change into dry clothes, but she hadn't packed an extra uniform, not to mention the fact that her pack wasn't much drier than she was, inside or out.

The next best option was to strip down to her underwear, but there was the present company to consider.

In the mad scramble to get out of the rain they hadn't paid much heed to who went where, thus Jack was the one kneeling next to her, shaking water out of his hair.

Twenty-four hours ago she might have done it anyway, but that particular mission was over now, and doing anything that would contradict that reality would only make matters worse. Thus, she was reduced to squeezing the water out of her clothes as best she could and cursing the fact that her sleeping bag had faired even worse than she did.

"You all right?" Jack asked suddenly.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "little chilly. You?"

"Little chilly," Jack echoed. "Didn't see that coming."

"No," Sam sighed. "The MALP didn't find any of the usual signs of monsoon weather."

"Never trusted those things," Jack said, repressing a shiver. "We seem to have a thing for ending up in cold places."

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "Weird."

"I doubt this is gonna let up any time soon," Jack said, listening to the torrent outside. "We should try to get some sleep. If it's still going like this tomorrow we'll pack up and call it a mission."

They both lied down on opposite sides of the tent but sleep was, once again, not forthcoming.

Instead, Jack stared at Sam's back as she lay a few feet from him. He knew she was cold and that sharing body heat would solve the problem, but he rejected the idea, thinking that it was too close for the time being.

However, when he saw a shiver wrack her body, he immediately amended his decision, closed the distance between them and laid down behind her, matching himself to the contours of her body. She initially stiffened and tried to escape, but ultimately surrendered to the welcoming heat. It wasn't much: their wet clothes still clung to them in strange ways and greedily stole the heat they were attempting to pool, but they were grateful for whatever heat they could get.

Out of a force of habit Jack still didn't realize he still had, he brought an arm up and draped it over Sam's side. This time it was his turn to stiffen as he realized just what he'd done, but she grabbed up his hand gratefully and held it as though it were a teddy bear. Jack immediately rethought his attempt to flee. Suddenly, the night didn't seem so cold, nor the ground so hard.

Somewhere between collecting soil samples, arguing about trees, and saving the world they'd managed to forge the deepest friendship either had ever known, and they hadn't even realized it. They were friends now, and they would still be friends in the morning. And if 'just friends' was all the Air Force would allow them to be, then 'just friends' was all they would be, and they wouldn't have any regrets, but one thing was for certain, they would be sharing a tent a lot more often.

--------------

A/N: So there you have it, "Pass It On" in full. Hopefully the ending didn't disappoint anyone, I couldn't bear to split them up completely, but this story would have gone on forever if I hadn't done something. Also, if you were paying attention near the beginning you might have noticed that I kind of set myself up for a sequel, do you want it? A word of warning if you do, it'll probably be awhile before I write it, I've got a couple other stories that I want to focus on.


	14. Love Shack

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate. "Love Shack" is by the B52s.

Author's Note: Alright, first off, I owe people an apology. I promised a sequel to "Pass it On," and, unfortunately, this is all I've got. I don't really have a good excuse, except for ideas ran dry and time ran out. So, I really am sorry to disappoint anybody who might have been waiting for a sequel. That said, I am happy with how this epilogue turned out, so I hope you enjoy it.

Since it's been awhile, there's some stuff in this chapter that references things that happened in Chapter 3 of this story. If you didn't want to read the whole story again, you might want to give that chapter a skim, or else some things might not make sense.

---------------------------

**Epilogue: Love Shack**

Doctor Fraiser stepped into Daniel's office and found the object of her errand exactly where she expected him to be: pouring over some artifact, trusty coffee cup nearby, and so absorbed in his work that he didn't realize she was there, nor that she had been expecting him to report to the infirmary almost half an hour ago.

"Daniel," she called stepping up beside him.

"Hey, Janet," Daniel said, barely looking up from his work.

"It's 0930," she informed him.

Daniel glanced at his watch, then back at her and said, "Is not."

"Is to," Janet replied.

"Is not," Daniel said again.

"Hour hand's the short one," she reminded him.

Daniel looked at his watch again, paying more attention this time, then reached under his glasses to rub his eyes as the realization finally dawned on him. "I'm sorry, I guess I lost track of the time."

"I figured that," Janet replied, crossing her arms sternly. "Have you been up all night?"

"Guess so," Daniel sighed.

"You do remember that I told you to take it easy," Janet asked.

"Yeah, but there was just so much to do, General Hammond's been waiting on this translation for almost a week, I couldn't find any other time to work on it," Daniel said.

"But you're sick," Janet reminded him.

"I have a chill," Daniel said incredulously, "it's nothing serious."

"Why don't you leave the medial opinions up to me," Janet replied. "When you got back from that planet you had mild hypothermia."

"There's a difference?" Daniel asked.

"Yes!" Janet cried. "Hypothermia is serious and not to be taken lightly, and you know full well that…"

She stopped suddenly, listening intently, then asked, "Do you hear that?"

Daniel cocked his head slightly in concentration. There was music playing over the intercom. It was quiet but unmistakable, the opening bars of…oh no. "Love Shack," he sighed.

"Random," Janet pointed out.

"Not as much as you might think," Daniel replied thoughtfully. "Have you seen Jack and Sam this morning?"

"No," Janet shrugged. "I ordered them both to take the morning off, and I'm fairly certain I said the same thing to you."

Daniel ignored the last comment and started pacing the room, thinking. "If they're not here, then why would they have a reason to play it, unless, oh, dear…" His shocked eyes caught Janet's as the realization dawned on him.

"What?" she asked.

"Did you happen to tell anyone you were coming down here?" Daniel said.

"Just the head nurse," Janet shrugged. "What's going on?"

"Did anyone see you, then?" Daniel demanded.

Janet thought for a moment, then said, "Yeah, actually, I passed Doctor Waterman just as I was coming in here, why?"

"You remember that little problem Jack and Sam had?" he asked.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with…oh, no," she said.

"Oh, yes," Daniel said, sinking into his chair.

"People think we're…" she trailed off, unable to finish, and Daniel nodded. "But that's insane, we've never…there's no…what are we going to do?"

"I hate to say it," Daniel replied, "but Jack and Sam have had to deal with this for years…"

"…and ignoring it never seemed to help…"

"…so, maybe, if we want the rumors to stop…"

"…we should just…"

"…do what they did…"

"…and pretend…"

While they were speaking, Daniel and Janet backed themselves into opposite corners of Daniel's office. It was completely silent except for the song, "_Love, baby, that's where it's at_."

Both of them winced at the poorly timed lyrics.

"So, ignore it, then?" Daniel asked, glancing between them.

Janet seemed to battle with herself for a moment, then she sighed and said, "No, my staff gossips more than the rest of the base put together, I can't let this go on for years."

"So you want to try," Daniel inferred, eyebrows crinkling.

"If you don't mind," Janet replied.

"Alright," Daniel said cautiously, adjusting his glasses.

"Well don't sound so excited!" Janet snapped nervously.

"Sorry," Daniel stammered. "This is just…"

"…weird…"

"Elevator?"

The elevator was mercifully empty when they reached it and remained that way down to level 27, where both surmised they would find the most people. The doors swished open with a ding and all noise in the hallway ceased as everyone paused to watch the two doctors kiss passionately against the back wall of the elevator. After a moment of utter shock, the hallway filled with a few whoops, a number of groans, and the smack of a high five.

Daniel and Janet broke apart as soon as the elevator closed again and immediately put as much distance between them as the small room would allow.

"That…that was alright," Daniel stammered, sending the elevator to level 21. "Give them a week and they'll probably be tired of us too."

"Yeah," Janet agreed. "That wasn't bad at all."

"Janet?" Daniel asked slowly, attempting to hide his sympathetic smile for her dreamy look. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Janet replied, snapping awake. "It's just that maybe these rumors have something to them."

"As in…" Daniel trailed off, still struggling not to smile.

"Maybe they're right, sometimes," Janet continued, stepping away from the wall.

"Maybe they are," Daniel agreed, copying her movements.

"Maybe we don't need to pretend," Janet said softly.

Daniel and Janet stared at each other, steadily coming closer and closer together, until the moment was broken by the ding of the elevator coming to rest on the 21st floor. They backed away immediately and Janet stepped out.

"So, lunch?" Daniel asked, holding up a hand to stop the elevator from closing.

"Oh, no, you're not getting away so easily, Doctor Jackson," Janet replied, grabbing his hand. "You still have yet to report to the infirmary."

"Right," Daniel sighed, following her into the hallway. "I thought you forgot about that."

"Not a chance, your hands are freezing," Janet replied. She stood up on her toes and pulled his ear down to her mouth. "And so are your lips," she whispered.

"I guess we'll have to do something about that," Daniel replied with a smile, giving her hand a squeeze.

"I guess we will."

-------------------

So, that's it, all there ever will be to "Pass it On." Once again, I'm terribly sorry about the delay and the failed sequel, but I hope this was an adequate consolation prize. Please leave a review. I'd love to hear what you thought of this.


End file.
